#will always have a spot in my heart

[zvkos]

i miss clouis 😔

[iwasbored777]

They asked Lee Majdoub what he thinks of Stobotnik vs what Stone thinks of it and this man chose violence omg the more I read the more painful it gets

[petricorah]

🍃 couldn't decide on which of jin's hairstyles i liked best so i combined them [id in alt]

[swampgothing]

The thing season 2 of Arcane did the worst is its quality of characterization in both main characters and side characters. No, cutting to background characters doing things occasionally is not developing them. Sure, you can jump to piano guy and gert occasionally, but just showing us what they're doing does not tell us who they are. I could describe to you the character of Finn or Huck or Babbette or Caitlyn's dad. But who is Lest? Who is Loris? Who is Maddie? Who is Steb? They even drop the ball with this in regard to more central characters. What was sevika doing while Jinx was away? What happened to the firelights, and how did Ekko respond when he got back to them? What is Jayce doing pretty much ever? Characters being so complex is what people loved so much about season 1 its what made season 1 feel like a show that could stand on its own but season 2 truly just feels like a long league cinematic and its worse because of that.

[rmbunnie]

Something kinda tasteless about the way that alongside the concerns of "Batman needs someone to rein in his aggression/edginess" (mostly a meta concern,) "Robin is a symbol of undying hope right alongside Batman, Superman, and the police system," and "now that the thought's crossed my mind I think being Robin would be pretty sweet actually," one of Tim's points for why he should be Robin at the end of A Lonely Place of Dying is "we need to show the criminals of Gotham that they can't just kill Robin and expect to get away with it!" Because. They can. That's exactly what happened.

Using that line of reasoning, Tim makes the claim that the idea of Jaybin's life as disposable and inconsequential is heinous and bad, his killing something impermissible, but instead of disproving said idea they allow it to become true and devote their energy to making sure it doesn't become widely known as such. By covering his death up, they actually are permitting his murder to go unaddressed and deeming it acceptable, even taking away the opportunity for it to be consequential to anyone outside of Bruce's inner circle by not spreading the news. As much as we say "oh Bruce was a great dad because losing Jason crushed him" and "he almost considered trying to kill the Joker one time," he in all tangible areas did not do anything about Jason's death. Setting aside the question of killing the Joker or not, it's still shown in Batman Year 3 that Bruce's reaction to Jason's death in the time til Tim showed up was to hide away everything Jason owned and carry on with business as usual, a little angrier. Bruce didn't make any changes or actually evaluate anything in a significant way after the warehouse and Jason's death didn't warrant any tangible consequence, that's evident from reading the comic. I know some may disagree, and I acknowledge the room for interpretation, but in order to discuss Tim's reason we have to concede that it is explicitly written into this specific comic as something Bruce and Tim both recognize as fact, because it serves as the foundation that this reason is built on: there is good reason for the criminals to believe there would no punishment for killing Robin based on the actions Bruce did or didn't take in response. The concern about the public realizing there are no consequences for killing Robin wouldn't be reasonable if it wasn't true, if there actually were.

While they recognize that Jason's death came to pass largely without consequence, the fact itself is less of an issue to both Bruce and Tim than letting criminals actually find out that it doesn't have consequence. They know it's unjust, the notion that Jason can be killed without repercussion (and in making an effort to minimize his murder confirm it to be true,) but their concern isn't for what actually happened to Jason or the lack of proper response. At least on the vigilante side of things, the problem is public perception and continuing to uphold an image of Batman as just and diligent while permitting him to ignore injustice against those close to him. There's no efforts taken to actually disprove the idea that killing Robin would lack impact, what Tim proposes is just making it harder to prove right.

I think the best way to word what comes across tasteless for me here (aside from the side commentary on the unstoppable might of the institution of police and how it's an exemplar of heroism) is that beyond Tim's victim-blaming of Jason during his stint as Robin, (discussed in more depth by people who can word it better than me,) in the base text of a Lonely Place of Dying, it is foundational to the initial premise of Tim as Robin that part of his motive for being Robin hinges on accepting what happened to Jason as something that cannot be allowed in their pursuit of justice or go unaddressed for reasons completely unrelated to the actual harm, and then intentionally erasing the event and the way in which it was allowed and did go unaddressed. No matter how much it's claimed in later comics that Bruce was faultless and Jason doomed himself, Tim's Robin came to be at least in part (in-universe) as a cover-up for the lack of action taken about Jason's death, and by extension as an effort to overwrite his time as Robin and an individual entirely. And thought it wasn't the way his character viewed it, Tim wasn't passively complicit in it or going along with a poor grieving man, the intentional and deliberate erasure of Jason as a murder victim and the injustice of his posthumous treatment was part of his opening pitch.

[marblerose-rue]

braixen

(request)

[hobidreams]

minis: july 1874.

time goes on, and so does your love stretch and grow alongside it.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: angst, fluff words: ~800 contains: historical au, talk of pregnancy

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 47. start from the beginning?

"...Not this time. Again."

In the starlit darkness of your apothecary, your voice comes out tender, red and raw as if the words scrape your throat on their way out. Your hands are flattened on the wooden table, your knees shaky but still thankfully enough to support you as you try to maintain your bravest face. But it's always futile when it's him you're facing. Your Yoongi.

Your Yoongi who only lets a small, sad smile flicker onto his lips before he is pulling you into his warm arms. He buries his face into the dip of your neck where your scent gathers, presses a tiny kiss beneath your jaw.

You feel the silk of his robes softly drag against your wrists. Feel his limbs tremble ever so slightly, even though he must be trying his utmost best to keep himself steady.

"I'm sorry," you whisper into his shoulder, wishing for yet another month that you had better news to give. More than blood staining your undergarments that you handwash until the red disappears into the water as if it had never existed in the first place, each scrub a fresh sting in your heart.

"Don't you dare."

Against you, Yoongi twitches, tenses. He breaks from you reluctantly, shifting until he's far enough away to look you in the eyes, hold you captive in his strong gaze.

"This is no fault of yours, janae," he says, tracing your cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Never."

This small act of affection makes the threat of tears known behind your eyes. Though you've grown hopelessly used to them in the past years, his kisses, his warmth, to have his kindness in the face of such failure is...

"Isn't it?" You pull away from him then, take a few steps away to your table where herbs and fine powders litter the tabletop, remnants of your day's work. "None of my brews have been effective."

"Yet," he says instantly, the word pressed out so intensely you almost believe him. "Effective yet."

"...It's just hard to watch her."

The beautiful queen. Well in the fifth month of being with child, her growing belly swells with love and happiness. She rubs oils you provide on her skin daily, willing to drink any bitter health tonic to ensure her babe's safety. As much as you love visiting her, chatting with her about all things related to the future heir of the country... You can feel your heart whimpering each time you see her. Ugly and jealous.

"We have time," Yoongi whispers, brushing a tendril of hair away from your forehead. "I promise."

"Okay." You exhale, letting him soothe your hurt. "And... I suppose being a while behind the queen will allow us to make good use of the clothing her child outgrows."

Yoongi raises a dark eyebrow at you. "Please. You think I would not personally order the most luxurious, newest clothing the country's top seamstresses can make for our precious baby?"

"Technically, her baby is yours too," you say with a small grin, even though you all know the truth.

He hums, amusement now playing on his lips. "Hoseok still has a difficult time keeping a neutral face when the advisors say the same. I had to order him to leave the chambers on more than one occasion already, lest he give everything away with that ever-changing expression of his."

"He can't help it. He's just so excited." You're grateful for this slight change of topic. "Do you think he'll tell Aera?"

"I don't know." Yoongi says that more often now, at least in your presence and Eunuch Kim's and sometimes even in front of the Queen. He's learned that kings don't need to know everything. That so many people within the palace are there to support him, even in his moments of falter. "I don't know if she is old enough to keep that secret. But eventually? Yes."

You place a hand on his chest and feel the thump of his heart beneath your fingertips. "And... will you... Will you tell their child when it is time?"

"Of course." His breath is warm with summer as it brushes over you, slightly bitter with the tea he uses to keep himself awake on advisor assembly days. "We are... one joined family now, as unconventional as it is. And if I have learned anything from my mother... every one of you deserve the truth. The queen, Hoseok, Aera, you..." His gentle fingers drift down to your stomach. "... and the little one that will join us eventually."

"Okay." You take his hand as you look into his eyes, read the absolute love, the sureity written there. You will trust in yourself as you do him, as you do the small pond rock that sits snugly in your right pocket, accompanying you through even the hardest hours. "Okay."

a/n: hey all! long time no see! if you're still here to read this--i'm SO grateful for you. i recently watched the Yoongi Road to D-Day movie and as soon as Daechwita came up, i was thrown back into this story and i just missed it so much. this mini was originally begun like a year ago in response to some comments from readers who were curious about what happened with our dear uinyeo-nim's wish to have a child! i wanted to show some of that struggle, some of the tenderness between them and how the world has changed in the few years since the end of the series :)

[mrs-gauche]

I beat Veilguard.

It's 4am. I'm a mess. I'm in tears.

[lostsyren]

Credit: @/lunarkiddd on TikTok

No because let’s talk about it. People saying Sofia deserved what Rafe did to her– how??? She had the slightest moral failing which she tired to fix, whereas he undermined their whole relationship (as well as all the murderous secrets he’s withholding).

Sofia they can never make me hate you!!

[shinybulbasaur]

I love the cultural miku trend for all the normal reasons but also because it's incredibly funny seeing when people feel the need to get specific. I see an Indian miku and then three posts later is a Tamil miku. like yes PLEASE say more about resisting cultural hegemony and the forces at play that make it important and necessary

[nuge]

the happiest boy to ever be eliminated

tyler seguin | DAL @ EDM | 06.02.2024

[miryum]

HAPPY NEWSIES STRIKE DAY 🎉 WOOT WOOT🎉 GO OUT AND HARASS YOUR NEIGHBOURS WITH OLD TIMEY ACCENTS AND NEWSPAPERS

[floatiecrow]

This idea/OC has been floating in my brain rent free for the past month or so, and I finally decided to sketch it out last night.

Watered-down summary: a novice pilot who crash landed into another world, and somehow babysits a danger noodle along the way.

[nepentheseeker]

He’s just standing there… MENACINGLY! Yet looking so pretty !!

[jenny-ate-ink]

CW: Sonic Movie 3/Sonic 2024 spoilers

Click away and block the "#sonic movie 3 spoilers" "#sonic movie spoilers" "#sonic 2024 spoilers" and/or "#sonic spoilers" tags if you do not wish to be spoiled

-

Imagine you wake up on a strange new planet, so green, with not a memory of who or what you are. You wake up surrounded by these beings who look nothing like you, and they take you quickly into a metal facility where wires and clips are put on you. Where test after test is run.

They find a power within you. A power they want to channel, to harvest. You make them their power.

But none of them look at you kindly. There is weariness in their eyes. A hesitation in every touch. You are alone. You do not know what you are. Who you are. You have no family. You have no friends.

Then she appears like starlight during a cloudy night. A girl, blond and blue with roller skates. She touches the canister in which you have been placed, and you scowl at her before she scowl at you because everyone scowls at you. Why bother with a smile.

But she mocks you instead with so much humor in her eyes.

It goes all so fast after that. Too fast. You forever look back, wanting, longing. It isn't fair.

She looked at you kindly. She called you her friend. Through her, her grandfather came to like you too.

You would pull her on her skates down the halls and listen to her laugh. You would listen to and sing songs with her. You used to watch movies with her. Shared a pillow fort with her. You once even snuck out to see that green world you landed on again, to stare at the moon and the stars you came from with her. She talked about stars and light lingering on. You looked at her and saw one. Saw your star. Your sun. Your light.

You were happy.

It didn't last. Of course it didn't last. What did you expect? What else did you deserve?

They came for you. For your power. Her grandfather pulled both of you along, running, alarms blaring. She looked so scared.

A gun aimed.

"They're children!"

A gun shoved, a bullet redirected.

An explosion.

You remember it, even now, like it just happened. You relive it every time you close your eyes.

She lies too still on the ground, surrounded by rubble. Broken and burned. You hesitate to touch her, to confirm that this is real. You look up to meet her grandfather's teary eyes. She's gone. Your star is dead.

Your name makes sense now. It suits you well. For you may not have been the one to pull the trigger, but it still was your power that caused the explosion. It was your power that lured them in, your power that killed your star and now leaves the world in shadowed in grief.

You're nothing but a shadow. The darkness in the night. The monster under the bed. Your power killed her, which means you killed her, however indirectly.

She said you aren't a monster and you proved her wrong.

You didn't even fight as they ripped you away from her still warm body. You didn't do anything. You couldn't do anything. You just stared at your hands as they took you away and put you to sleep.

For fifty years you relive it. Over and over again. They made a hell just for you.

They took her from you. Your power, harvested and explosively unleashed, killed her.

You are angry. So angry. It consumes you. It festers like an infection, spreading. It fills you down to the marrows of your bones and pumps through you like blood.

You wake up in a world without her. In a world you don't want to exist. In a world you don't want to exist in.

You go to the only place you think of. The old facility. The only place you ever lived in. The place where she died, where your powers snuffed her out.

You find her grandfather there. He speaks of grief. Of anger. He wants revenge, has a plan of how to get it all laid out, and you are the key to its success.

The world that stole her will burn like she did. Your powers will be harnessed and then explosively unleashed. It will kill you, he tells you. It will kill him. A small price to pay.

It's justice that you die by your own powers, by the same powers that stole her away.

You agree. You want revenge. You want it more than anything. And it the end, you'll be with her again. It's perfect. You want this darken world to feel the same pain it has caused you. You want this pain to end. More than anything, you want to see her again. To feel her light on your fur again.

But a family stands in your way. Something red, something yellow, but mostly something blue. How annoying. How infuriating. They have what you lost, and you want to take it from them. It isn't fair.

You see him. Commander Walters. He was there, he was with them the day she died.

Rage. Deep, sickening rage. You strike him down.

Except... he isn't Walters.

Blue. Eyes carrying the same pain you do glare into your soul.

"What did you do?"

You tell him the truth.

"What I had to."

Revenge awaits.

Is this the right thing to do? Is this what she would've wanted?

No. No. They deserve for taking her. This is revenge. This is what you want... right?

You're so angry. Of course it's what you want. It's what you need.

You power the machine. Let it harvest your power.

You're aren't surprised when blue turned yellow, stronger than ever, comes for you. Of course he would want revenge, too. He is the same as you. He understands your pain. The pain you caused him.

He pins you down. You let him. The world will burn regardless, at least now, you will see her sooner. You can be rid of this pain sooner. You can let him get rid of his pain. You owe him this, don't you? This a mercy upon the both of you.

He hesitates. It angers you. You point to your chest.

"Do it! I'm right here!"

The look in his eyes changes. You no longer see your pain and your rage reflected back at you.

He tells you that revenge doesn't fix anything.

Something shaky within you breaks. You fizzle out. Your anger fizzles out. You realize anger had only ever been the secondary emotion. The mask.

You are consumed with grief. Painful, inescapable grief.

You sit with him and look at the world your powers are going to destroy.

It's blue, like she was. Blue, like he is.

He tells you the pain never goes away, but you learn to grow love around it.

The sun, yellow like her hair, warm as her smile, rises.

It clicks.

You remember it, what she told you all those years ago. How the light still lingers even when the star is gone.

She was, is, your star, and through you her light travels forward even now in her absence.

You are the shadow casted by her lingering light. You are her love preserving. Everything she is, everything she was, you decide now with every action. You are her legacy. Her light still shining.

You were, you are, her shadow. You were always meant to follow her, even now.

You let your anger and grief lead you astray. You should have followed her love from the beginning.

She wouldn't want this.

You wish you could tell her that you're sorry, for everything.

You look at the blue, and he offers his hand.

You take it.

It's time to right your wrongs. To follow the path you were always meant to.

You aren't happy. You're still hurt. And you're still angry, still grieving.

But this feels right.

Even as you redirect the bullet of your power aimed at the Earth, there is a strange peace. A feeling of justice. A knowning that you are doing right by her memory. Acting in her honor rather than your grief.

Blue falters, but you persist. You persevere. You push your mistake further away. You can not, you will not, let your pain hurt anyone else anymore. It isn't what she would've wanted. It isn't what you want. Not anymore.

You can hear her laughter even now. Soft and warm like starlight. You can almost hear her telling you to keep going, to just push it a little further.

Maria.

Is she waiting for you?

Your power engulfs you just like it did to her all those years ago.

Maria.

Is she proud of you?

You close your eyes and welcome it.

Maria.

You'll miss her forever, won't you?

[saltwaterburns]

Do you feel ashamed, when you hear my name? Anyway, don't be a stranger.

- Thomesa & "Scott Street" by Phoebe Bridgers